d to and fro, chiefly gathering round the latticed
windows of the parsonage, where morning and evening Betty fed hundreds
of feathered pensioners.

Sportsmen cursed the hard weather, the idle horses restlessly moved in
their stalls, and the hounds dreamed dreams to pass away the long hours.

Betty was never idle. She made it her pride that when she left home as a
bride all should be found in order in her father's home. Mistress Mary
took much interest in it herself, and joined her in mending and marking
and sorting fine household linen that had need of much care.

Betty's own clothes were in course of manufacture, not many but rich, as
should become the Lady of Belton; above all, her wedding-gown of
dove-coloured and silver brocade, all trimmed with strings and strings
of orient pearls which John Johnstone had brought her one day.

He gave her many jewels but she loved the pearls best, for they were his
first gift, and destined, he said, for that day of days that was to make
her his own forever.

Almost every day as the time passed on, he brought her a new gift. Once
it was a pretty little dog, another day a ring of large rubies.

"My Betty herself is a ruby," he said, when he placed this on her hand.
"A brave stone rich in colour, strong, unchanging, and the most precious
of gems."

Then there was nothing for it, but that she and her father should come
to Belton to look over Betty's future home, suggest improvements, and
choose among Mr. Johnstone's many fine horses one to be trained for his
bride's special use. She was a bold fearless rider, looking beautiful on
horseback, and she had scorned his proposal to buy her a gentle lady's
horse, expressing her wish to be allowed to ride his hunters. With one
or two exceptions John offered her the choice.

It was a brilliant frosty day on which the invitation was accepted. Mr.
Ives laughingly included Mary Jones in the little party, asserting that
two and two would be a fairer division of company.

Mary bridled and blushed and threw a tender glance at him from behind
her fan, and the parson thought to himself that after all he was not old
yet.

In every life there is perhaps one day that stands out from the others
as the happiest day--one day in which the cup of joy seems full to the
brim; it is not generally a day of powerful emotions, but of unbroken
peace, sunshine, love, sweetness and the glory of life.

Such a day had dawned for fair Betty Ives. It was not so